


to face the burning heat

by amethystkrystal



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bottom Bucky Barnes, Captain America Sam Wilson, Fluff and Smut, Friends With Benefits To Lovers, Getting Together, Injury Recovery, M/M, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Top Sam Wilson, embedded art
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-28
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-28 18:55:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20783465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amethystkrystal/pseuds/amethystkrystal
Summary: Sam and Bucky have been hooking up for months with no strings attached, but when Sam is injured and Bucky volunteers to take care of him while he recovers, the feelings between them become hard to ignore.





	to face the burning heat

**Author's Note:**

> This is the very first time I've written SamBucky and I'm so excited to share this fic! Thank you so much to Kuri for her amazing art and to the wonderful Sam Wilson Birthday Bang mods for making this possible. This fic is also counting as my entry for [ Cap Septender 2019](https://twitter.com/BiStarBucky/status/1159179932553175043?s=20).

When Sam woke up, the first thing he noticed was the pain — an awful stinging ache that went all down his arms and legs. 

The second thing he noticed was Bucky Barnes staring at him from where he sat beside the hospital bed.

"Really? First thing I see when I wake up is your ugly mug?"

Bucky just snorted, the corner of his mouth twitching up. "Wouldn't be the first time."

No, no it wouldn't. 

"Really, man?" Sam groaned, attempting to sit up. All he accomplished was sending more shooting pain down his limbs, and he fell back on the pillow. "Shit. What happened? That little girl, did she—?"

"She's alright. Everyone got out of the building okay," Bucky said, teasing expression now gone. "They rushed you here in a chopper. Second degree burns all down your arms and legs and back."

Sam could feel medicated bandages covering him all over his limbs and wrapping around his back. It was bad, he could tell that much. But he'd gotten that little girl out safe. That was all that mattered. 

He remembered the flames surrounding them, the way she'd cried and screamed as the heat closed in around them, and he'd had to make a decision right then. He'd gathered her against his chest, covered her with the shield, extended his wings, and then run through the flames and out the eighth-story window. 

It had been an apartment fire, not usually a job for Captain America. But it had been two blocks from his own home. He'd smelled the smoke and heard the sirens. Of course he was going to go.

Bucky still had an upset look on his face, and Sam asked him, "How come you're here?"

"It was on the news. Saw footage of you leaping out a window with your whole body on fire." Bucky glanced away. "I was worried."

That admission made something well up in Sam's chest. A feeling he couldn't identify. Or rather, a feeling he didn't _ want to _ identify. Because that was the thing, there were no feelings between them. Just sex. Mindblowing sex that each time made Sam feel like his entire being had been shattered and then painstakingly glued back together. But still, just sex. 

"Well, I'm alive."

"The doctor said you can probably go home in a few days." Bucky still wasn't looking at him. 

"That's good."

A beat of silence passed between them.

"I wanted to ask..." Buck finally looked up to meet Sam's eyes. "I wanted to ask if you wanted to stay with me. While you recover."

The offer took Sam by surprise. He still didn't quite know how to describe exactly what he and Bucky were to each other. "Fuck buddies" seemed callous — the experiences they'd shared felt a little more profound than that. They never spent time with each other except for sex, but Sam felt like there was an understanding between them, a mutual knowledge that with Steve and Natasha gone, they had to look out for one another. 

It was a complicated thing, never mind that everytime Sam thought about Bucky, he could feel a warm, desperate ache in his chest. He didn't know what to make of Bucky's offer, but he certainly knew that being taken care of by the other man was an embarrassingly appealing prospect. 

"Alright, if you feel like spending the next couple weeks changing nasty bandages, I won't argue."

*

Five days later, Bucky picked him up from the hospital and took him back to his apartment in Brooklyn. Sam had been there before, of course, but he'd never really had the chance to see much of it besides the bedroom. It was small, but in a cozy, rather than claustrophobic, way. There was a lot of artwork on the walls and paperback books on every surface. Sam found himself staring all around, trying to glean something from this space belonging to the man who occupied his thoughts more than he'd care to admit.

"Get settled in the living room," Bucky told him, after they'd been standing awkwardly a few seconds. "I'll make some lunch."

Sam's wounds were definitely getting better but he still had to be careful with them as he gingerly eased himself into a reclining position on the sofa. He turned on the TV and started flipping aimlessly through the channels until he ended up just leaving it on a baseball game. 

Bucky came in ten minutes later with a tray of sandwiches and potato chips, and when he saw what was on TV, he made a disgusted noise.

"What, you don't like baseball?"

"No, baseball's great. I just can't stand to watch those traitors."

Sam was confused for a second and then realized it was a Dodgers game. He rolled his eyes and tossed the remote at Bucky none-too-gently. "Sorry, didn't mean to upset your delicate Brooklyn old man sensitivities. You pick what to watch then."

Bucky skimmed through a couple stations before he stopped on a news broadcast. 

"—_ have released an official statement that Samuel Wilson, better known as our new "Captain America", has been discharged from New York Presbytarian this afternoon. Wilson spent five days there recovering from severe burns following…" _

The newscaster went on to describe the apartment fire. While she spoke, shaky cell phone footage played of Sam hurtling towards the ground, outstretched wings ablaze and his shield-bearing arm wrapped protectively around a little girl. 

"Alright, forget 'Falcon'. Forget 'Captain America' . From now on, my new superhero name is 'The Phoenix'." 

Bucky scoffed, but there was a hint of fondness to it. A quiet second passed and then he said, "It was really brave what you did. Stupid and reckless. But brave."

"Just did what needed to be done."

Bucky didn't reply, though his expression remained soft and fond. 

They watched the remainder of the afternoon news show without much conversation. By the time it was over, it was getting time for Sam's bandages to be changed. 

"Probably easiest to do this on the bed," Buck said, retrieving the medical supplies bag they'd brought from the hospital. He jerked his head toward the bedroom. As if Sam wasn't already painfully aware of where that particular part of the apartment was located.

"You know, if you want a quickie before dinner, all you gotta do is ask."

"That's not—" Bucky's cheeks were turning honest-to-god _ pink _. "I'm serious about your bandages."

Sam just chuckled and walked into the bedroom.

While Bucky laid out the bandages and ointment, Sam stripped down to his underwear so Bucky could get to all the affected areas — arms, legs, back, shoulders. He sat down on the edge of the bed, arms outstretched.

Bucky winced as he unwrapped the first bandage around Sam's forearm.

"Jesus, Sam."

Sam just shrugged. "Looks worse than it feels. And I don't regret it."

Bucky sighed. "No. Of course you don't."

The next couple of minutes passed in silence as Bucky removed the bandages. He was gentle and slow in his work, being careful not to brush the fabric too hard against Sam's raw skin. 

When the old bandages were discarded, Bucky got to work spreading the medicated ointment on the burns and putting fresh wrappings on them. He started with Sam's arms, holding each limb steady in a gentle grip with one hand and applying the ointment with the other. His movements were slow and thorough, never pressing too hard, never applying too much friction. 

"You alright?" Bucky asked, as he was finishing up wrapping Sam's torso. "I'm not hurting you?"

"No," Sam said. "Not at all."

It was just clinical, Sam knew, but still, he was moved by the care Bucky was taking with him, at being handled with such kindness. 

When Bucky was finished with his upper body, he gestured for Sam to stand, and he knelt down to do Sam's legs. He bandaged up Sam's left leg, and as he was finishing up the right, he slid his hand up along the inside of Sam's thigh.

He looked up and their eyes met. Sam nodded.

Bucky's hand moved up, smooth vibranium fingers brushing over Sam's balls through his underwear. Sam let out a low noise and Bucky smirked, hand continuing to roam, palming his balls, teasing his dick until it was hard and straining against the fabric of his underwear. 

"Jesus," Sam moaned. Bucky looked up at him, grinning, and then at last he pulled down the waistband and without further preamble, took Sam's entire length into his mouth.

Bucky Barnes had a mouth for sucking dick. Sam had become all too acquainted with that fact over the past few months. Apparently unbothered by a gag reflex, he took Sam deep in his throat, his tongue warm and velvet as he worked the perfect pace, alternating between agonizinging tease and impassioned fervor. 

And then his hands. _ God _, his hands. Working Sam all over, caressing his ass and hips, playing with his balls. 

"Fuck, _ fuck _," Sam gasped. He knew he was close, and as good as he knew it would be to come with Bucky's mouth around him, that wasn't want he wanted now.

He gave Bucky's shoulder a gentle push, making him look up in question.

"I wanna fuck you." Sam moved his hand along Bucky's shoulder, up his neck, cupping his jaw. "Can I fuck you?"

Instead of replying, Bucky surged to his feet and kissed him, hot and messy, and it was all the affirmation Sam needed, reaching down to pull of Bucky's shirt and undo the button of his jeans. 

Both naked and on the bed, Bucky retrieved a bottle of lube from the bedside drawer and tossed it to Sam before settling on his forearms with his legs spread.

Sam slicked his fingers, admiring the sight before him of Bucky ready and eager for him. Feeling suddenly desperate and wanting, he settled behind Bucky and rubbed a slickened finger around the rim of his hole, hardly pressing in. He just wanted to feel him, wanted to watch the way his body reacted at the touch. After a moment of that slow tease, he pressed his finger inside, rubbing slow and gentle circles, stretching him. Then he added another finger, moving in the same easy pattern, though now the second finger had Bucky making the softest little moans.

"Want you in me," Bucky breathed as Sam's fingers made another languid circle inside him. "Please."

"Well, since you asked so nicely."

Sam removed his fingers, and Bucky had barely let out a sigh before Sam pressed his dick to Bucky's hole and slide inside. The sensation of tight heat punched a moan out of him. Bucky felt incredible, always did. 

He started easy and slow, but it wasn't long before his pace turned rapid, driving in and out of Bucky with desperate frenzy, urged on by the other man's cries of pleasure. They moved in tandem, Bucky tilting his hips up to meet each of Sam's thrusts, angling their bodies so that each time, Bucky cried out as Sam hit that perfect spot of pleasure inside him.

"Fuck, fuck, Sam..."

Sam reached around and took Bucky's dick in his hand, stroking him in time to the movement of their bodies. It wasn't long before Bucky let out a strangled shout and Sam felt the wetness of his spill on his hand.

The sound of Bucky's wrecked little gasps brought Sam nearly to the edge. He thrust deep and hard, reveling in the sensation, at the feeling of being as close to this man as two humans could get, at having intimate knowledge of every shift of his body, every hitch in his breath. 

He held Bucky's hips tight as he came, drawing them flush together. He pulled out, slowly, and before he could get up to get a towel to clean the mess, Bucky took him by the hand and pulled him down to the mattress. He went, boneless and pliant, letting Bucky position him so that he laid on his chest.

Sam closed his eyes, feeling the rise and fall of each of Bucky's breaths. They'd never done this before. Usually they put their clothes on right away afterward. Usually one of them was out the door.

But not this time. This time, something had shifted, unspoken and irreversible. 

This time, Bucky pressed his lips to Sam's forehead. 

This time, Sam traced his fingers along the scarred tissue where flesh met metal. 

This time, they held each other close.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Say hello to amethystkrystal and Kuri!  
amethystkrystal on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/amethystk219)  
Kuri on [ Twitter](https://twitter.com/kurisu80) and [ Tumblr](https://kurisu-80.tumblr.com/)


End file.
